


Follow the Rules

by fauvistfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pining Derek, Stiles and Jennifer are siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauvistfly/pseuds/fauvistfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Jennifer move to town when their father becomes Sheriff. Derek notices Stiles right away, but it's Jennifer who ends up being the one who introduces herself. Derek becomes friends with both of them, hiding his crush on Stiles as much as he can. What happens when Jennifer decides to make a move?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow the Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Jennifer is Stiles' older sister, and their dad is the Sheriff. I'm actually surprised that I don't see more of these fics, considering how much they look and act alike.

The first time Derek sees him, it’s at the batting cage. Derek sort of feels ownership over the batting cage, seeing as he’s been coming since he was a little kid, and he’s gotten into a rhythm when he gets there. He always chooses the same spot all the way on the left because he’s a lefty and that means fewer distractions in his peripheral vision. He always says hello to the owners, knows all the kids who work there—it’s a comfortable place for him and has been both his escape and his reward for ages. So when he walks in to take his usual space and sees this loose-limbed kid in a graphic tee and plaid shorts, the scowl on his face is immediate. Until it’s replaced with something else.

The kid is good. He doesn’t look like he’d be good, with his long arms and skinny legs, but his form is good, and the strength in his shoulders and surprisingly muscled forearms give the bat power. The Guy is clearly not just here for fun. He’s there with some girl, and they’re chatting comfortably, completely unaware that they’re in his spot. He takes the one two down from them and tries not to get distracted. He doesn’t succeed.

The next time he sees The Guy, he’s picking up take-out at the pizza place down the street from his parent’s place. The Guy is with the same girl and an older man, so Derek assumes they’re having a family dinner. The Guy is eating with enthusiasm, and his face is full of smiles and energy. He’s ridiculously mesmerizing, the way he talks with his whole body, and Derek allows himself to observe a little longer while he waits for his food. The dad is in uniform, and Derek deduces that this must be the new Sheriff and his family. He’d heard they’d moved in recently, and Derek’s parents had mentioned how happy they’d been with the transition so far. Before he realizes how long he’s been staring, the girl makes eye contact. Derek’s eyes widen a little in embarrassment, but she only gives him a small smile that seems welcoming enough. Thankfully, Derek hears his order come up, pays quickly and flees the scene before the sheriff realizes his kid has already gained an admirer.

After that, he sees him all over the place. At the library, the grocery store, the park, the movies. It gets to the point where Derek has to remind himself that he isn’t stalking, that he really was jogging in front of and not behind him, that he was already in line at the store when he sees The Guy enter the store with an empty cart. He’s never felt the smallness of the town more than he does now, and he’s both grateful and resentful—because though he’s seen The Guy countless times so far, he’s never said two words to him, not even an “Excuse me” to get around him at a store or a “Thanks” for holding a door open.

That all changes when he’s sitting at the local coffeeshop, drinking his stupidly sweet White Chocolate Mocha and checking the baseball scores from last night’s game, and someone takes a seat in the wingback chair next to him. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” she asks, the sister, the girl, the one who’s always around The Guy.

Derek forces himself not to look around for her seemingly other half, and shakes his head. “No, it’s open. It’s all yours,” he says, gesturing with his hand.

She sits and then gives him a wide smile. “I’m Jennifer. I’ve seen you around town a lot, and I figured I should at least introduce myself, since we clearly frequent the same places.”

“Well, it’s a pretty small town. There aren’t that many places to frequent,” Derek says drily, “but I’m Derek. Nice to meet you.”

Jennifer sticks her hand out abruptly before realizing that Derek has picked up his coffee with the hand not holding his phone and thus has no free hands, which leads to her flinching back and shrinking into herself.

Derek puts down his coffee to reach his own hand out, saying, “Sorry, my mom would be appalled at my manners.” He smiles genuinely at Jennifer’s awkwardness, finding it almost endearing, when she thrusts her hand out again—right into the hand holding his phone. The phone clatters to the floor and slides two feet away.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, Derek! Let me get that,” she says immediately, moving to get up. Before she can get out of her seat, a hand pushes her head back down.

“Already causing trouble?”

Derek looks up, and his mouth opens in surprise as he sees the Guy with his hand on Jennifer’s head and a fond grin on his face. The Guy places a coffee on the table and then reaches down to pick up Derek’s fallen phone.

“Oh, hey, are these the baseball scores from last night’s game? Did you happen to check the Mets score? They don’t show the games out here in California, and I was so tired last night that I--” 

“Ugh. Really, Stiles?” Jennifer says, shoving him away and smoothing her hair back. “Derek, this is my little brother Stiles. Feel free to ignore him.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” says Stiles, formerly known as The Guy. He hands Derek the phone with one hand and then shakes his hand with the other. Derek does his best not to hold on longer than he should, and looks down at his phone to gain a little equilibrium. Baseball. He can talk about baseball.

“The game went to twelve innings, and then Young hit a two-run walk-off homerun, so they beat the Royals 4-2. Looks like it was a good game.” Rattling off the details calms him, so Derek takes a breath before looking Stiles straight in the eye. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Derek.” He is thankful that he’s just taken a deep breath because when Stiles hears that his team has won, his entire face lights up in a way that takes that deep breath right back out of him.

“Oh no,” Jennifer cuts in, and Derek quickly turns to look at her, worried that he’s already given his crush away. Jennifer is closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. “Please tell me you’re not also a Mets fan.”

Derek exhales loudly in relief, sounding like something between a choked laugh and a dying wheeze. “We’ve just met. I can’t lie to you already,” Derek says with a wry smile.

Stiles laughs and then claps him excitedly on the shoulder. “That’s awesome, dude! Fellow long-time suffering Mets fan right here. I was afraid I’d be surrounded by Dodgers fans when we moved here. Even Jennifer abandoned the orange and blue in the name of ‘blending in with the locals.’ Psshhh. No loyalty, I tell you,” Stiles says as he gives his sister a dirty look.

“Right, yes, I’m a traitor. I’m a horrible person. I’m the spawn of Satan. Yes, yes. Just give me my coffee,” Jennifer says while rolling her eyes. “You take baseball so seriously.” She laughs when both Derek and Stiles gasp and look at her with horror. 

And that is how Derek suddenly finds himself two new friends.

***

It’s surprising, how quickly the three of them become close. Derek genuinely enjoys both of them, Jennifer’s quirky humor and self-deprecating wit, Stiles’ sarcasm and ridiculous but ridiculously intelligent tangents. The three of them have a good dynamic, though he often ends up talking more with Jennifer; she’s the one who reaches out to him, plans things, invites him over. Derek is still incredibly aware of his relentless attraction to Stiles and, in his attempts to keep it under wraps, never initiates a conversation with him that doesn’t involve baseball. He rarely texts, even when he thinks of something that he knows would make Stiles do that whole-body laugh, because Stiles? Stiles has a crush of his own.

It’s not that Stiles tells him about this crush or anything; he doesn’t have to. It’s just blatantly obvious one day, when the three of them are hanging out at the diner after seeing a movie. Derek sees this redhead walk confidently right up to their table and say, “Hi, Stiles.” Derek doesn’t see her face when she says this, but he does get a full view of Stiles’ face, and he has never seen him blush like that. Never. The redness starts in his cheeks and then travels up his ears and down his neck. Stiles gets this look on his face, and when Lydia turns to introduce herself to him and Jennifer, he gets it. Lydia is beautiful, so beautiful that Stiles is rendered speechless, which Derek knows is quite a feat. And if that weren’t confirmation enough, after Lydia leaves Jennifer says, “So that’s Lydia?” in a knowing manner, and Stiles immediately tells her to shut up. If that’s not a sister teasing her brother about a crush, he doesn’t know what is. He learns later that Lydia works with Stiles at the university library; they are paired to do some type or research, and apparently Lydia is not only beautiful but scarily intelligent. It’s completely understandable that Stiles has a crush. If the way she looks at Stiles in that knowing manner is any indication, Lydia might even be willing to reciprocate. Regardless, Derek keeps his own crush to himself and lets Jennifer keep making plans for hanging out, never asking for Stiles to be there but always hoping nonetheless.

Derek is good at hiding these feelings because Derek has had practice. He used to be completely open and unguarded, stupidly so. He got caught in the web of someone who was determined to destroy that innocence, and Derek is someone who learns from his mistakes. So he enjoys the easiness of his new friendship with both Jennifer and Stiles and simply runs for miles and miles with his headphones and his emo music when his feelings become too much to bear.

Unfortunately, being such an expert at hiding his own emotions means that he’s not always aware of other people’s feelings. Case in point: movie night at the Stilinski home. The three of them had decided to marathon all the Star Wars movies, starting with the original three—because they’re the only real ones anyway—but Derek is already exhausted when the first movie starts. He’s been coaching Little League on the weekends, and with the intense heat and his stupid decision to run alongside all the kids every time they run around the bases and especially when little Bryan finally hits a homerun, well, Derek is already half asleep when he sits down. He’s on the couch, not even caring that his head is slumped over the armrest and his legs are taking up the entire space. Jennifer is sitting on the floor in front of him, and Stiles is in the arm chair by his head. Derek tries to keep his eyes open, he really does, but he’s seen this movie so many times, and isn’t it more about hearing Stiles’ running commentary? He lets himself close his eyes, and he allows Stiles’ voice to lull him to sleep. He even imagines that it’s just the two of them, that Stiles is running those long fingers through his hair and fondly watching him sleep. He blames his actions on that very dream because when he wakes up to someone’s hand cupping his face, to someone’s face coming close and sharing his breath, he naturally leans in and kisses him, slowly and gently and lovingly. It’s only when he moves his hand to cup the back of his head that he realizes it’s a her and not a he, that it’s Jennifer and not Stiles. He flinches immediately, waking up with a shake of his head and sitting up in horror. Stiles is nowhere to be found, and the credits are rolling on the TV screen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, crossing his arms and trying to resist the desire to wipe his lips.

Jennifer searches his face, her expression carefully blank as she sits back on her heels in front of him. “No, I, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, especially since you were sleeping. Is that why you’re sorry? Because you were sleeping? Because you’re awake now, even if I sort of startled you awake, and if you’re awake, then I, we, I mean--”

Derek shakes his head slowly. “No, not that. I mean, I’m sorry because I like you a lot, but not like that.” He says his words carefully because he doesn’t mean to hurt her. He really had no idea that she was interested in him like that. Looking back, he should’ve known, should’ve seen all the clues, but he was so focused on keeping his own crush hidden that he’d taken what he could get without question.

Jennifer’s face falls, and it’s obvious this is not the reaction she was hoping for. Her brow furrows in confusion. “No, that’s fine. I mean, you can’t help the way you feel. But I really thought you did? You always wanted to hang out, and you seemed to enjoy spending time with me. We’ve had standing Friday night dates for a long time now, even when Stiles was with us and we didn’t call them dates.”

Derek does his best not to react to Stiles’ name, but he’s not sure if he’s successful. Jennifer doesn’t seem to react, but he feels her gaze on his face, searching or answers. He can’t look up yet; he’s not even fully awake, and he’s struggling to keep his mask in place. She finally looks away, and Derek releases the breath he’s been holding. He says quietly, “I really am sorry, and I really do like spending time with you.”

“Yeah, same Derek. It’s fine. Yeah, friends. Of course. It’s no big.” Jennifer stands up and then turns off the DVD player. “I’m gonna head to bed, but you know how to let yourself out, right? I’m totally up for being friends, and I will definitely text you about hanging out, but right now I think I’m just going to--” She points to the stairs. “Goodnight, Derek.” She says this with her back to Derek, and Derek sits and stares. He wants to say something, but he knows it would only be to assuage his own guilt; nothing he says now will make Jennifer feel better. So once she’s gone upstairs, he quietly slips out and drives home.

***

The weekend is a quiet one, the first in ages without a text from Jennifer about something happening somewhere at some time, and Derek misses it. Misses her, though he doesn’t confuse that missing with attraction. She’s become a good friend, and he hopes that his lack of reciprocation doesn’t end up messing that up. He doesn’t have that many friends to begin with, and he’s been even less social with the ones he had before the Stilinskis moved to the area and started monopolizing all his time. He goes running, reads a little, finally catches up on Supernatural, and has dinner with his parents. When Monday rolls around, he is relieved to see a text from Jennifer, the usual groaning about not wanting to work and the offer of drinks at their usual happy hour place. He doesn’t text back immediately—that was never the way he did things—but he is surprised by the weight that lifts when Jennifer seems to have buried whatever attraction she might’ve had for him in the name of friendship.

It’s not exactly the same, though. Stiles doesn’t join them, taking advantage of the cheap wings since he can’t drink yet, and Jennifer seems to avoid bringing him up. Derek is just thankful that she hasn’t called him out on his crush, so he launches into a story about his sister’s biking accident that involved a raccoon and a squirrel and drinks his beer with a smile.

Times goes by, and eventually he ends up hanging out at the Stilinski home again like before, but Stiles is hardly ever there. Derek’s not sure if it’s intentional, since when he happens to see him he never seems awkward or angry with him. It’s just not the same, and there’s no dynamic of three the way it used to be. Derek knows he’s lucky to still have Jennifer’s friendship, so he doesn’t ask about Stiles and stops thinking of ways to start a conversation on the off chance that he’ll see him. He starts hanging out more with some of his other friends, joins an intramural softball team, starts volunteering at the soup kitchen that has just opened up. All in all, he’s content, despite the ache in his heart.

That all goes to pieces when he’s driving in a flash thunderstorm and recognizes familiar broad shoulders walking through the rain, completely drenched. Before he can second-guess his decision, he slows down and opens his window. “Stiles! Get in before you’re washed away,” he calls out, unlocking his door.

Stiles hesitates for a moment but then opens the door and slides in. “Thanks, man. The Jeep died on me, and my phone was already dead so I was just gonna walk to the gas station up here. Then it started pouring.” Stiles shakes his hair out a little and wipes the rain off his face.

“I’m right down the street. Why don’t you let me give you a change of clothes, and you then can call a tow truck from there?” He starts driving towards home before Stiles has a chance to say no. He knows he’s playing dangerously, but it’s been ages since he’s seen Stiles, and the offer of a warm change of clothes is what any friend would do, right?

“You sure? I would argue more, but we’re on the other side of town, and I am completely, down to my underwear, drenched. Wow, probably more than you needed to know,” Stiles mutters, looking out the window at the rivulets charging down the window. “You know, I don’t even know where you live. You’re always at our house. I mean, not that there was a reason for me to see your place.” 

Derek glances at Stiles as he turns into his street. “I don’t really have company that often. I lived with my parents for a long time, just because it never occurred to me not to. When I finally got a place, I’d already gotten used to not asking people over. There are only a handful of people who’ve been here, so you should feel honored.” He doesn’t mention that he never asks Jennifer to come over because he still holds onto the small hope that Stiles will join them, and that won’t happen if they’re at his place.

Stiles doesn’t say anything, and they pull into a parking spot in silence. He leads the way up to his apartment and moves to the hall closet to grab a towel, letting Stiles look around his apartment without shame.

When he comes out, he sees Stiles looking at the photos of his family, of him and Laura at his graduation and the one from last year’s huge family barbecue where everyone is wearing a tacky Hawaiian shirt. “Yeah, they’re that embarrassing,” Derek says, holding out the towel. “It’s only once a year, though, so I guess there are worse things.”

Stiles just chuckles and say, “I don’t know. Based on those facial expressions, it looks like you actually love every minute. And I’ve met Cora and Laura. If they didn’t like it, they wouldn’t do it.” He wraps the towel around his shoulders and rubs his hair.

Derek smiles sheepishly. “You got me. I’m a sucker when it comes to family. The bathroom’s right over there. You’re welcome to shower if you want. I’ll grab some clothes for you. Let me know if you need anything.”

Stiles takes one last look at the photo and then nods. “Thanks, I’ll just--” He points to the bathroom, and Derek does not watch the way his clothes cling to him as he walks away.

Derek grabs a v-neck, refusing to feel guilty about that, and a pair of sweats and heads to the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, so Derek knocks and then pushes open the door. Stiles is wringing out his shirt, making his forearms and chest tense and move in ways that make Derek grow warm. “Here, hope they fit okay,” he says as he tosses the clothes on the counter before quickly closing the door. He hears Stiles say something through the door, but he’s already in the kitchen, getting out the hot chocolate mix and wishing away the flush in his cheeks. He thinks he has it under control when Stiles walks in, his hair mussed up and his neck appealingly bare in the black t-shirt. 

“I left my wet things to dry in the bath. Thanks for the clothes,” Stiles says, taking a seat at the stool by the counter.

“No problem.” He pushes a mug of hot chocolate towards Stiles. “It’s not exactly gourmet, but it’s still warm.”

“Ah, perfect. Thanks, dude.” He grips the mug with both hands and blows gently. 

Derek holds his own cup and leans back against the counter. “So, uh, how’s work? How’s Lydia?”

Stiles shoots Derek a puzzled look. “Work is great. Lots of deadlines and stuff, but I’m good with that. Lydia’s fine. Still working with me, still brilliant, still dating that asshole Jackson.” He shrugs.

“Oh, man, that sucks. I didn’t realize she had a boyfriend. I could’ve sworn she was interested in you.” He takes a long sip to cover the smiles threatening to burst on his face when he hears this news.

Stiles laughs softly. “No, I don’t care about that. Lydia’s amazing, but I was never interested in her, not like that. She’s a great friend.” He fiddles with his mug, running his fingers over the edge. “She teases me like hell, but she’s a good friend.”

“Oh,” Derek says softly. They sit in silence for a little bit, both seemingly lost in thoughts.

“The weather’s still so warm, but that rain made me so chilled. I really appreciate that you stopped. Thank goodness for sisters with nice boyfriends.” Stiles takes another sip.

“What?” Derek says, stilling immediately with his mug halfway to his mouth. “Boyfriend? I’m not your sister’s boyfriend.”

Stiles yelps when he burns his tongue and then sets it down before he can do any more damage. He looks up in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course you are. What, you don’t like that label?”

Derek scowls at Stiles and tries to answer the question without expressing the other million questions this apparent misunderstanding has brought to light. “No, I’m not anything but her friend. We’re just friends. She knows that, and I know that.”

Stiles shakes his head, and it looks like he’s getting a little angry even. “No, dude, I saw you two. You were making out on the couch. Why are you trying to keep it a secret? What, she isn’t good enough for you?”

Derek can’t help but react to the anger, especially since it’s Stiles who is questioning him, accusing him of treating his sister in a less than respectful way. “You’re wrong. That was weeks ago, and it was a misunderstanding. I made it clear I wasn’t interested, and she was fine with it. And what do you know anyway? It’s not like you’ve been around.”

“That’s because I kept driving every time I saw your fucking Camaro in the driveway!” Stiles yells, his voice full of accusation. 

Derek’s face shuts down in reaction to Stiles’ words. He thinks back on all those times he thought he’d heard the Jeep approaching, his heart beating faster in anticipation, only to be disappointed when Stiles hadn’t walked through the door. He’d eventually assumed it was some other car, but now Stiles was saying that he had indeed avoided him, that he hadn’t wanted to hang out with him. It hurts so much more than he anticipates that he isn’t able hide it. He grabs his mug and turns to dump the rest in the sink. “Well, I just won’t come over anymore. I didn’t realize I was keeping you from your own home. I guess I just thought we were all friends.” He busies his hands with washing the mug, even though he normally throws it into the dishwasher and forgets about. He hears Stiles sigh heavily and can see him rubbing his hands over his face, but Derek still doesn’t turn around.

“Derek, I didn’t mean it like that. Of course we’re friends. I just assumed that you wouldn’t want your girlfriend’s annoying little brother cutting into your sexy times.”

Derek just shakes his head. “I don’t know why you thought that,” Derek says flatly. “We all hung out together for ages. I didn’t think I made you feel like you weren’t as much of a friend as Jennifer.” He rests his hands on the counter, staring down at the sink.

“Dude, she was obviously into you. You made her laugh and blush and get all flustered. She would call, and you would always answer. You never gave her a reason to think you weren’t interested. Why would you do that? Don’t you know the rules?”

Derek snorts, closing his eyes in disbelief. He cannot believe he is having this conversation. “No, Stiles. I clearly don’t know the rules.”

Stiles makes a noise that seems stuck between a growl and a whimper, and Derek can imagine all too clearly the frustrated look on his face. “I just don’t get it. Why aren’t you interested? She’s pretty, funny, laidback. You guys totally click. What’s not to like?”

Derek grinds his teeth and glares at his distorted face in the faucet. He pushes down his anger and helplessness in this ridiculous conversation and forces himself to calm down.

“Well? What is it? She not girly enough for you or something?”

Stiles’ statement makes something in him snap, and he spits out, “I’m just not interested, okay? She’s not the one I’m attracted to.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he is mortified, so utterly mortified, that he has lasted this long without baring his feelings, only to have them come out in this stupid conversation where Stiles is sitting there on his ugly stool wearing his clothes. He closes his eyes and hopes against all hope that Stiles doesn’t realize the implications of his words.

“What?” Stiles asks softly, almost breathlessly. 

Derek steels his voice and says loudly, “Jennifer and I are not dating. I don’t like her like that. That’s all. Let me get the towing company number for you.” Derek turns to find the number and almost runs into Stiles. He immediately turns back to the sink and grips the counter for balance.

“No, not that. You’ve made that clear. But, you said she wasn’t the one you were attracted to. That’s what you said.” Stiles’ voice is quiet but clear. He’s just a foot away, not intimidating him but clearly in his peripheral vision. Derek doesn’t want to give in, but it’s clear that Stiles is not going to let this go. Maybe it’s better this way, anyway. His shoulders drop a little, and he simply says in a tired voice, “Stiles.”

“Derek.” Stiles reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, and Derek holds himself rigidly so that he doesn’t melt into his touch. “Derek, what did you mean? If she’s not the one, who is?” Stiles pushes gently to make Derek turn towards him, and Stiles rests both hands on his arms, a touch that is both gentle and burning. “Is it—is it me?”

Derek remains silent. He doesn’t shrug off Stiles, but he can’t bring himself to respond. He just stands there, breathing in and out, refusing to make eye contact. All he can hear is the sound of Stiles breathing and the fast beating of his own heart. He has never believed in all those stories about time stopping and everything moving in slow motion for a moment, but this is pretty close. He waits for Stiles to let him down gently and hopes he’ll be able to look him in the eye after it happens.

But that doesn’t happen. Stiles starts moving closer, infinitesimal steps dragging out over minutes, till Derek doesn’t fully believe he’s nearer until he feels the soft breath on his lips. “Derek? If it’s not me, push me away.”

Derek opens his mouth in surprise, and then Stiles’ lips are on his. They are gentle, and Derek is still in disbelief, afraid to take what is now obviously being offered. He feels himself slowly relaxing, their lips brushing intimately like whispers, but it’s not till he feels Stiles’ tongue against his mouth that he raises his arms and finally pulls him in.

They both moan in response to the sudden full-body contact, and their kisses become deeper and more feverish. Derek sneaks one hand underneath his t-shirt and up his back, the other holding Stiles’ neck with tenderness. Stiles moves both of his hands up Derek’s torso, palms gliding over his abs and thumbs teasing his nipples. Both of them still move tentatively, hands skating over bodies and learning the curves, until their movements are heated and sure and the space between them gets chased away.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes, resting his forehead against Stiles in an attempt to gather control of his heartbeat. He runs his hands up Stiles’ forearms and turns to kiss the palm of the hand currently caressing his cheek.

Stiles leans forward to kiss him again, and Derek can feel the broad smile on Stiles’ face. It makes him smile as well, and then they’re kissing again, heartbeat be damned. This time Derek slides his tongue down Stiles’ jaw, rubbing his stubble against his neck and basking in the way Stiles shivers in response. Stiles reaches his hand and squeezes Derek’s ass, drawing him closer and moaning at the way they press against each other. Derek gasps when Stiles bites lightly at his neck and kisses him deeply in retaliation, his tongue filthy and searching. Their kisses slow down eventually, and Derek rests his face in the curve of Stiles’ neck while he catches his breath.

“So, I guess you know why I wasn’t interested in your sister,” Derek says, his voice muffled by Stiles’ smooth skin.

Stiles laughs abruptly and smacks Derek on the back of his head. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you the rule of not bringing up family members during makeout sessions?” 

Derek shakes silently with laughter and finally, finally looks straight into Stiles’ eyes. “Hi,” he says almost shyly.

“Hey.” Stiles grins, his face flushed with stubble burn and happiness. 

They eventually make it to Derek’s sofa, still giddy with the newfound knowledge that their feelings are reciprocated. Stiles is nestled in between Derek’s legs, and he’s playing with their entwined fingers. Stiles leans back to look up at Derek and asks, “So is this going to be awkward with my sister? Because I was totally the one that pointed you out first. She just didn’t realize I was pointing you out for myself and not for her.”

Derek chuckles and gives Stiles’ hands a kiss just because he can. “I don’t think so? I don’t think she knew you were the reason I turned her down, but she didn’t seem too broken up over it. But, I mean, I’m willing to put up with some awkwardness if you are.”

Stiles turns to give Derek a kiss and says, “Totally willing to put up with awkwardness. I’m already the definition of awkward. A little more won’t kill me.”

Derek smiles and leans in for another kiss. “We should probably call that tow truck. I don’t want your dad seeing your abandoned car and getting worried,” Derek says in between kisses.

Stiles sighs noisily. “Fine, fine. Be the responsible one. But I’m keeping your clothes. And I’m totally wearing them when I jerk off tonight.”

“Jesus, Stiles,” Derek says as he pictures Stiles, open-mouthed and flushed with desire. “Okay, up. Get up. Let’s go before we never leave. I’m taking you on a date before we do anything else.”

“Aw, that’s cute. Stupid, but cute,” Stiles says as he stands up and then gives Derek a hand, really just an excuse to pull him up and kiss him again. And again.

Eventually, they make a call to the towing company, and Derek drops Stiles off at home. Derek puts his foot down and doesn’t make out with Stiles in the driveway, but he does promise to call later, even as Stiles leers at him and makes hand gestures that ensure Derek knows what that call will entail. When he drives away, he can’t suppress the smile on his face, and he smiles even more when he realizes he doesn’t have to.

When Stiles walks into his house, he sees Jennifer on the couch, giving him a look of speculation. His grin immediately dies, and he forces himself not to rub his neck in the place where the stubble burn is most prominent. 

Jennifer just rolls her eyes and gestures to the arm chair. “So Derek finally made a move? Or was it you?”

Stiles sits carefully and pauses before speaking, unsure of how he wants to answer.

“It’s okay, Stiles. I kinda figured he was interested in one of us. I was hoping it was me, obviously, but I’m not surprised it’s you. And it’s not like I was head over heels or anything. Not like you.” She gives him a pointed look.

“What? How? I mean,” Stiles stammers, before grabbing a pillow and smacking Jennifer in the head. “Dude. If you knew about my crush, why did you make a move on him? Doesn’t that break all family rules?”

Jennifer flings the pillow back at Stiles and hits him straight in the nose. “God, stop with your stupid rules. There are no rules when it comes to these things. Derek is hot. We’d been hanging out for ages, and there was this weird but awesome tension whenever we were all together. I wanted to see where it could go. You should thank me. Who knows how long it would’ve gone on if I hadn’t made a move?”

Stiles snorts loudly. “Oh please. Tonight happened because I was stranded in the rain after my car broke down, and Derek came by and saved me. It had nothing to do with you, so you can stop with your smug face.” He grabs the pillow and smacks her thigh before immediately putting his hands up to block the pillow that Jennifer hurls back at him.

Things devolve quickly; before long all the throw pillows are lying haphazardly around the room, and Stiles and Jennifer are sprawled on the floor, giggling. 

Jennifer turns to Stiles with an earnest expression on her face. “Are you happy?”

Stiles nods, a small grin on his face. “I am. I really am. Are we good?”

Jennifer nods. “We are. We really are. But you’ll have to give me details on Derek’s ass because damn.” And then she smacks Stiles in the face with one last pillow before running upstairs. 

“That’s weird, Jen! Totally weird! I’m not telling you anything! EXCEPT IT IS TOTALLY FINE AND ALSO ALL MINE!” he yells, throwing a pillow towards the stairs.

“Should I ask?” Stiles’ dad says as he stands in the doorway and surveys the mess in his living room and his son on the floor.

“Nope. All good here. No questions, please. Especially not about asses.”

“Stiles? Stop. Now pick up this mess before I ask about why your Jeep was parked on the side of the road for four hours and why you’re on the floor with stubble burn on your neck.”

Stiles jumps up and hunches his shoulders, as if that will hide the marks on his neck. “Cleaning up right now! See me cleaning? Have I mentioned how much I love you, Dad?”

“Love you, too, Stiles. Tell Derek I said hello,” he says with a smirk as he walks past.

Stiles just beams, unable to stifle his giddiness. “Will do, Dad. Will do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to add full-on sex because kissing is awesome, dammit. Kissing is fucking fantastic, and it shouldn't always immediately lead to sex, especially if it's a first kiss. First kisses. Lots and lots of first kisses. 
> 
> Of course, that just means I need to write a PWP next. No worries--it's already in development. :)
> 
> Come follow me on [tumblr](http://www.fauvistfly.tumblr.com)!


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